#sub!roman

[baekbunns]

releasing mami is highkeniunely one of the best things to happen to the fanfic community with how i’m seeing the sub!roman agenda thriving again oh all i do is winn

[mendaxietysmuts]

NSFS Prompt

Prompt: ❝ The only part about you that matters is your body. ❞ top virgil with bottom roman???

{Warning: Dubcon}

Roman knows Virgil is in a mood, tonight. The quiet, calculated way he moves, the hungry glances he keeps shooting towards Roman. Normally, Virgil is much more clunky, full of sarcastic quips or the like. When he gets in his moods though, he’s like a storm cloud, and the lightning always comes right for Roman. Virgil saves his worst for Roman, who’s the only one who can take it. That’s alright, though, usually Roman likes the way it hurts. It means he has a use for his master, right? Virgil won’t get rid of him?

Toying with a loose strand on the sheet, Roman waits in the bedroom, shifting uncomfortably. The toy left inside him is a tad too thick, but Virgil enjoys seeing Roman squirm when he’s in the right mood. Roman’s even gone through the trouble of a little makeup, making himself pretty in a way he hopes Virgil will like. There’s not much Roman won’t do to gain Virgil’s satisfaction; it’s a shame Virgil is so greedy with it. Soon, the telltale sound of footsteps starts upstairs, and Roman stiffens, straightens. He looks to the door when it begins to open, hurrying to stand up.

When Virgil enters, the entire room drops a couple degrees. Roman bows, well trained (and aware Virgil isn’t to be trifled with right now) and then looks up, quiet. Virgil gives him a once-over, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You dolled yourself up for me?” he asks, kicking the door shut behind him. Roman straightens when his master approaches, trying not to lean into that cool hand as Virgil lifts his chin, appraising Roman. Virgil hums, before he grabs Roman’s wrist and shoves him backwards onto the bed. Roman lands with a hushed gasp, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“Undress,” Virgil orders, already working on his own pants. Roman can see, already, it’s not going to be gentle. Still, he complies, not wasting a moment until he’s bared and splayed out on the bed. Virgil’s on him in a second, like a predator finally indulging. Virgil’s teeth find Roman’s throat, biting, and Roman arches his back with a groan. He wears bruises like they’re jewelry.

“Sir,” Roman murmurs, daring to trace his fingers down Virgil’s back. Virgil takes his wrist and shoves it down onto the bed, before he seems to change his mind and instead uses it to roughly guide Roman to turn over. A hand presses on the back of Roman’s neck, holding him, while Virgil’s free hand slips lower. Roman bites the sheets when his master starts to work the plug out of him, lubricant glistening on his hole still.

“Pretty sight,” Virgil exhales the words, and Roman feels his cock hardening. Virgil moves, spreading Roman’s thighs.

Roman flinches a bit. “Sir, please—” he begins, but he never finishes before a hand in his hair pushes his head down. He’s not sure asking for it to be slow would’ve mattered.

Virgil hushes him, lips close to Roman’s ear as he presses the tip of his cock against Roman’s stretched hole. He knows he won’t break his pet, he’s kept ready. Without warning, he thrusts inside, burying his cock inside Roman’s inviting heat, and ignoring the yelp Roman muffles against the sheets. “God, you feel so good,” Virgil hisses, dropping his forehead against Roman’s shoulder. He starts to roll his hips, rocking into Roman with enough force to make their hips smack together.

Roman clenches the sheets in his hands, panting feverishly as Virgil takes him. It’s hard, it’s fast—it’s not romantic, but Roman doesn’t expect that. Not usually. He raises his hips a little to let Virgil fuck him deeper, each thrust pushing Roman’s cock down against the bed so he can grind against it. Roman whines, staining the sheets with pre-cum. Virgil’s hands bruise his slave’s waist, bringing him closer as he fucks into him, feels his tight muscles spasming around his cock.

When he’s angry, Virgil doesn’t last as long. Roman should be grateful, considering how hard Virgil always goes when he gets like this, but a part of him is regretful when Virgil stills, his hips shuddering as he fills Roman to the brim. Roman’s chest heaves, a throaty groan escaping him. Beneath him, the sheets are wet, but he doesn’t even know when he came. Eventually, Virgil pulls out, dropping Roman’s hips and leaving him in his mess.

Roman winces as he rolls over, glancing at his master and reaching a hand out. “Sir?” he asks, hoping he’s appeased Virgil.

Virgil glances at him, cleaning up with a towel that he next tosses at Roman. “Clean yourself,” he orders. “The only part about you that matters is your body.”

Roman drops his hand against the bed immediately, cutting his eyes away. Virgil is rough in these moods, even rougher with his words. Roman pretends not to care, because they’re always like this, snapping back and forth. But still, the words stung. He sits up to clean himself, and Virgil leaves, shutting the door behind him.

Roman pretends not to care about that, too.

[ill-skillsgard]

Ok how about you and Roman have been fighting but he sees you out and about and can’t stand it so he kidnaps you but then begs you to punish him for being bad and needs his mommy to teach him a lesson

You couldn’t believe the balls on Roman. His car had come barreling down the street. The sounds of tires screeching in the distance should have been a giveaway but it wasn’t until he pulled up next to the sidewalk and rolled down the window that you realized who the mad man was driving like an idiot.

“Get in the car,” his command was firm.

“Um, no,” your response was just as unyielding.

Roman already knew that making demands of you would only make things worse. He was stubborn, not stupid. And you were stubborn, too. That he knew. He would get nowhere by asking. 

The engine ceased and Roman pulled out the keys, threw open the door and got out of his car just in time to miss an oncoming vehicle by an inch. He cursed loudly and stopped you from taking any more strides away from him.

“Get in the car... Please.”

“I don’t want to, Roman. Get away from me,” you attempted to shoulder past him but he blocked you.

“Please. Please. Don’t make me beg you.”

People were starting to stare from across the street, from their cars and through storefronts. You realized that you had gathered an audience, sighed and started back to Roman’s car before anyone decided to pull a cell phone out and record.

When he got you back home after a tense ride, there was no explosion. No yelling. No grinding his teeth and half-baked apologies. He took your hands and kissed them.

“What are you doing?” You asked, trying to reserve the contempt in your voice.

“Punish me,” he ignored the question.

“Roman...”

“Please,” he lowered himself onto one knee and then the other. “I want you to.”

“Why?”

“Because... I’m bad.”

“I know you are,” you agreed.

“I won’t beg you in public but I will beg you now. I want it. Please. Just... Fuck. I don’t know! Hit me.”

“I don’t want to hit you.”

“Mommy... Please. I’ve been a real bad boy.”

A smirk finally cracked your composure. Oh, this was going to be good.

[oh-roman]

tbh i am in the mood for sub!bill all whimpery and desperate ughgh

drabble - 10 

(NSFW) (Don’t hate me, but I wrote this for Roman instead)

Waking up on your period (and Roman just wants a taste).

Roman is spent.

His muscles are aching in all the wrong places—waking up after a long night of sex in countless positions. He was so rough last night and a small part of him feels bad about it, considering the scratch marks he’s left on your hips and the dents in the wall, from the headboard banging against it.

Watching you sleep—all cuddled up to his body and fanning your breath against his chest—it makes him feel so content and more like an asshole for possibly hurting you. You two aren’t dating, (because Roman doesn’t really do “relationships”) you just have causal sex time to time.

Despite this, watching you sleep makes his heart twist and all of a sudden, he feels so small and wants you this close all the time. It’s a strange feeling at first, but Roman can’t really avoid it—suddenly feeling really needy. When he traces his fingertips down your arm, he’s slightly biting down on his bottom lip and though he doesn’t say it aloud, he’s quietly praising how soft your skin is. Once he reached your wrist, he gently pulls it up between both of your bodies and he presses his lips to the skin—murmuring a “sorry” to himself. There’s a rough indentation from the ropes on your wrist and it makes Roman feel awful—silently wishing he were gentler with you or used some softer restraints. He takes your fingers in his and begins kissing each one—each peck sweeter than the one before.

Soon, he’s whimpering ever so slightly and dragging your thumb into his mouth—sucking lightly and furrowing his eyebrows. Honestly, he has no idea what he’s doing. He’s never felt this submissive—this needy for you. Especially after a night like last night, when he demanded you to call him daddy and beg for every privilege you possibly could think of. However, (unbeknownst to your knowledge), Roman’s always secretly wondered what it would be like to be on the bottom—having to beg for your permission instead. Having your thumb, slicked against the flat of his tongue turns him on more than he expected and soon, he loses track of reality and starts rubbing at himself through his boxers with his other hand and sucking a bit too hard, because your eyes flutter open with a sleepy groan falling off your lips.

Roman stops, immediately—freezing in his tracks with your thumb lazily resting inside his mouth. You just stare at him for a moment, taking in the sight in front of you. Your thumb feels wet—presumably slick with his spit. Instinctly, you want to invesitsgate and perhaps question him, but something twists in your stomach and you face scrunches up—your eyes shutting and a small cry leaving your lips.

Roman thinks he’s done something wrong and immediately let’s go of your wrist (and his crotch) to hold you closer. “Sorry,” He mutters, craning his neck down to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

Quickly, you whisper a “no”, because it’s not his fault why you’re suddenly in pain. “I think I’m just cramping,” you mutter, feeling him face you again with his bottom lip puckered out in a frown. You think that perhaps your cramps are so bad this morning, is because Roman was so rough last night—so deep, your eyes rolled all the way back and you nearly came the second he slid into you. It was by far the best sex you’d had in a long time. Especially, since Roman doesn’t just fuck you and leave—he takes his time, rolling his hips to meet yours and changes paces when you get more vocal. He’s so cocky—only praising himself while he’s balls deep in you. Even had a mirror installed on the ceiling of his bedroom, so he could watch himself when you ride him. “Look at me—fucking your pussy so good,” He’d whisper and it only turned you on more.

But, waking up to daddy sucking your thumb like a pacifier and whimpering, catches you off guard and you wonder what’s got him so worked up and vulnerable. Then…you remember.

A gasp falls off your lips and you quickly try to remove yourself from his grip and get as far as possible. “What?” Roman mutters, watching you sit up and cover yourself with a sheet. You don’t answer—only shimmy yourself off the bed. Roman’s dying inside and just when you’re standing at the foot of the bed, covering yourself with the sheet, like a dress, he sits up against the headboard and says, “I just wanted you close, is all,”

You pause for a moment and look over your shoulder at Roman, who’s fiddling with his fingers, looking guilty as ever. Truth is, he’s embarrassed out of his mind—he’s supposed to be your dominant. Supposed to be manly and have youfeeling small, but something about him this morning, has him acting so out of character. “Roman—“

“No, you should leave.” He prompts. “I deserve it—been a bad boy,”

Your heart twists at his words, because he’s hardly ever this insecure or submissive about anything. He thinks it’s his fault that you’re leaving and though you two aren’t dating, you assume, he just wants you close for a little while longer. “It’s not that I don’t want to be near you,” you begin, wanting nothing more than to assure him it’s not his fault. “I started my period and I know you’re trying to control your hunger,”

And Roman pauses, starring at you for a long while before smiling a tiny bit. “I didn’t want to ruin everything and have you relapsing,” You mutter, squeezing your thighs together. He’s been so good—biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut when he sees a little blood. He feels like a monster when he feeds off people, so you’ve been helping him control it; deliberately avoiding him for the time you’re on your period. However, you seem to have started a little earlier this month.

Roman stands up from the bed and walks up to you. “Knew I smelled something different,” He says, tugging the sheet from your grasp. “It’s driving me crazy,”

You know it’s far too late to leave now, because he’s already craned his neck down to attack your neck with soft kisses. He’s got his hands on your hips, stroking the skin gently. “Know I’m not supposed to, but,” He mutters, abandoning your neck to hover over your lips. “Can I have a taste?”

Roman doesn’t ask for anything—ever. So, you merely nod in response, because he sounds so needy and it’s the softest thing ever. He makes a little sound once he’s got your permission—something like a throaty whine. “Thank you,” He mutters, before cocking his head to the left and pressing his lips against yours. He was just inside of you last night, but he feels so detached from you, when you two aren’t inches apart. When he’s moving his lips against yours, you rake your fingers through his hair and play with the hairs at the nape of his neck—feeling his lips vibrating against yours when he moans. He fastens his pace—reaching his hands around to cup your bare ass.

Initially, you were completely against the idea—fearing Roman might go a little wild if he tastes you when you’re bleeding. But, hearing him whine (a sound so foreign) makes your clit swell and soon, your pussy feels all warm and tingly.

“Sweetheart,” Roman murmurs, after pulling back from your lips with a wet smack. “Need you to sit on my face,”

His words only make your legs weaker and the flesh between your thighs, hotter. Chest heaving, Roman starts walking backward toward the bed, before lying down on his back, comfortably. When you follow after him, he’s already licking his lips, smelling the blood on your pussy once you’re close enough. He helps you get situated with a thigh on either side of his neck. It’s a vulnerable position and a small part of you feels slightly embarrassed, because only Roman finds period blood, sexy. You’re holding onto the headboard and looking down at him for some sort of sign—something to ease the bit of anxiety in your muscles.

Roman runs his hands up the back of your thighs and looks up with you with a small pout on his lips. “You’ve teased me long enough,” He whines. “Promise I’ll be a good boy for you,”

Then, you’re lowering yourself on to Roman’s mouth (his tongue already slick and sticking out for you). He hooks his long arms around your thighs to keep you steady once your pussy is covering his tongue—he knows you’ll try to squirm away. You squeal almost immediately and that makes Roman’s cock throb beneath his boxers. His tongue is tracing figure-eights over your clit and prodding over your hole—eating you out like he’s starved himself for years. Lips making an “o” shape, he wraps around your clit and sucks harshly and has to hold your thighs steady when you start jolting at the feeling. It’s just enough pressure that he’s applying—it’s almost like he was made to eat you out—like his lips should have one job and one job only.

It’s filthy—a mixture of your pre-cum and blood slipping down his throat and dribbling down his chin. He hasn’t feed off a human in months, let alone, tasted your pussy. So, his hunger is the strongest it’s been in a while. You can only imagine, he’s not stopping until he’s swallowed every drop and milked you dry. You stutter something incoherent and Roman hums in response—vibrating against your clit. “Fuck,” you whisper, feeling a little frustrated, the closer you’re getting to your orgasm. Rolling your hips, you start grinding onto his tongue—living off of Roman’s muffled whimpers from below you. “Take all my cum,” You grit, closing your eyes and using him a bit of a stress reliever. “You fucking hear me, Godfrey? Every fucking drop,”

Roman pulls away from your pussy with a wet smack, to catch his breath. “Y-yes ma’am,” He whines. “Wanna be your good boy,”

He’s dining in your wetness again—curling his tongue to tongue fuck your entrance. Everything feels so wet, he thinks. You’re playing along with his submissive act and he loves you for that—needing to feel you in charge. “Ah,” Whimpering, you tangle your fingers in his hair with one hand and grip the headboard with the other. “Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” You squeal, not meaning to let the pet name slip. He doesn’t mind—in fact, he sucks your clit through your entire orgasm and doesn’t stop until he feels your pussy stop pulsing.

Crawling off of him, you fall onto the mattress next to him and wrap your arm across his heaving chest. When he turns his neck toward you, his nose, lips and chin are blood-stained and wet—his lips red and raw from sucking. There’s a bit of cum on the corner of his mouth and his thumbs over it, with a cocky smile on his face. There’s the Roman you know.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” He mumbles, pulling you close into the cuddle you two started out with. “Bet you’re not cramping now,” He says, chuckling low and patting your bare ass.

[it-is-reigning-men]

Have this piece of my Shield Boys Smut shot cause it's taking me 100 years to write [Uncomplete]:

Summary: In which Seth and Dean can finally see eye to eye in taking care of their big man, Roman. Said man’s been stressing and working way too hard as of late, and the remedy is some relaxation and letting the other boys make a few decisions for him.

Or the one where Seth and Dean both top Roman, out of love.

—

Tags: Smut, Ambrolleigns, Rolleigns, Ambreigns, Negotiated kinks, sensual massage, choking (whoops), breath play, sexy times all over, everyone is a switch dom/sub but this is all about Sub!Roman

—

They always said they were the workhorses of the division back in the Shield days— the boys also said they never had a problem with that.

It was 2016, going on 2017 and a certain member of the infamous trio had been having issues with balancing relaxation time and work time — and it had been showing in his actions. The miracle about it was WWE was giving them all New Year’s weekend off, because, well, they at least got Holidays.

Seth and Roman could now comfortably sit by each other on the plane ride back, since they were both buddy-buddy again, and were rather cozy in first class.

Only Roman kept shifting in his seat, eyebrows furrowed as he brooded out the window.

“What? You don’t like the window seat?”

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Just…”

Seth frowned at the stumbled answer, crossing his arms.

“Spit it out, Rome.”

“M’ just sore… is all.”

The Architect gave the arm closest to him a joking squeeze.

“You have been pretty tense lately. And you’ve been making that face,”

Roman wet his lips and made an effort to ease his forehead, eyebrows finally relaxing into their normal resting expression.

“You’re gonna get wrinkles.”

Roman snorted at Seth’s petty little beauty advice.

After a beat Seth tried an easier approach. Roman had been on edge enough as it was.

“Hey, when we get to your place, I promise I’ll help you let loose a little bit, yeah?” A coy little smirk accompanied the words, and Seth was sure that would get him somewhere.

“Aren’t you heading to your folks?”

Clearly Roman wasn’t in it to catch the drift.

“It’s New Year’s Eve… Eve. I’m heading over the next day, but I wanna be with you first. Just us.”

Roman had only realized then that they did have a full two days before New Year’s actually hit; and the words had finally settled— made him feel all fuzzy, too.

Shaking his head as he exhaled, Roman threw Seth a side-long glance.

“Alright. Then… I’d be happy to have the company,” The big dog chuckled half-heartedly, leaning fully back into his seat.

Before the ride was done Seth leaned toward the latter, nearly settling on his shoulder, to mutter.

“Lemme give you a massage to get all those kinks outta your muscles, okay, Big Dog? That’ll get your mind off things.”

The connotation was much different that time— since this time Roman just might’ve understood what Seth was implying.

…

“Damn, Ro, you’re fuckin’ tense all over.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Don’t talk.”

“Then don’t talk to m— mmh— fuck. Right there.”

Seth pressed down on the tender spot on Roman’s lower back, making small circles with his fingers, causing the one beneath him to sink further into the mattress, nuzzling his face into the pillow he was hugging to muffle the pleasurable noises trying to come up.

Smirking, Seth stopped, sliding one of his lotion slicked hands up Roman’s spine, twirling a section of the latter’s hair and giving it a soft tug. He didn’t care if Roman got mad at him getting a tiny bit of lotion in it. He could wash it out like a big boy.

Roman blinked in surprise, his body having been completely lax just moment before.

“Hey, Ro..?” Seth scooted up slightly from where he was seated on Roman’s thighs, legs on either side of the larger male’s body.

“If you want me to continue, you’re gonna have to let me know it feels good.”

Roman swallowed, eyebrows knitting together as he felt Seth’s fingers move in his hair, fist tightening slightly.

“I thought you said not to talk,” Roman grumbled, apparently still irritable. Or perhaps curious as to what Seth’s mindset was at the moment.

“Without words, Roman.”

At the sharp command, Seth shifted again, situating himself so the crotch of his gray sweatpants pressed against the latter’s ass- just so he knew he was there. One hand stayed in Roman’s hair and he used his other palm to knead into the same spot on Roman’s back again, harder this time.

“Lemme hear it.” Seth encouraged, continuing his ministrations but untangling his fingers from the long locks of hair to rake his nails down Roman’s tan back.

Roman suddenly felt so incredibly warm; the words that were so subtly enticing mixed with the skillful dance of hands on his body and those somehow irritatingly unmoving hips pushed down against him… felt his heart beat a few paces quicker but sooner felt his lips part to release a low sigh- a noise that briefly cracked at the beginning before rolling out into a silky little groan.

At least two minutes of pure petrissage passed, Seth never being too gentle since he knew Roman enjoyed more pressure when it came to kneading his muscles. The Architect would part his fingers gradually as he rubbed up and down, evoke longer but quieter moans then before going to use his knuckles to get the particularly knotted areas to be rewarded with harsher, half pained groans.

He might’ve stopped being so persistent in staying on those spots if it weren’t for the way Roman unconsciously clutched onto the covers and licked his plump lips after each of those deep whimpers.

He’d known for a while Roman was a bit of a masochist. And this was only a partial pain sensation…

Letting his mind wander, Seth finally dipped beneath the region he’d been caring for, his thumbs venturing below the waist line of Roman’s briefs, other fingers cradling either side of the latter’s hip bones, and experimentally massaging just above his firm butt. He wanted so badly to just take that last article of clothing off already, but he knew if he did he wouldn’t be able to wait –

As he gulped, keeping his composure, Roman coyly curved his back, incidentally pressing his behind more against Seth’s hardening manhood. Nobody was playing around here.

“This still just a massage, Rollins?” Roman rumbled, voice sounding groggy.

Ouch, last name, huh?

“I don’t know, are you enjoying it?”

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question,” Roman moved his hips again, feeling himself rubbing against the hardness scarcely obscured by the fabric of Seth’s sweats - not to mention he’d made sure to be commando when he’d changed into them upon getting into the house.

“You’re being pretty submissive for the guy that was happy to fuck me into the mattress last week.”

Roman moved again, now hugging the pillow so his voice was muffled again, just to annoy Seth. Because yeah, maybe this was karma for all those times Seth had been just as irking.

“I didn’t say I was gonna let you put it in. Don’t get cocky.”

Seth had unknowingly rutted himself against Roman’s inviting movements, but bit down on his own lip as he leant forward to grab the pillow away from the larger male. Roman let out a surprisingly cute ‘oof’ as he readjusted to lay his cheek on crossed arms, glaring back at Seth as he tossed the pillow to the side.

“-Was that pun intended?” Seth snorted, eyes narrowed dangerously even though there was laughter on his lips. His body leaned down again, their pair of eyes locking until Roman couldn’t meet them anymore, since Seth’s head went out of peripheral view to lay kisses along Roman’s broad shoulders.

Seth was starting to consider just moving things along at this point; grinding into the pliable body underneath him and getting a little high off the feeling of having control over the guy that never stayed down– in the ring, at least.

But, since the stars were somehow aligned today, Seth picked up the sound of a door shutting, and some bags being dropped onto the wooden floors out in the living room.

Roman noticed too, if his immediately tensed body was any sign.

Seth was quick to push his fully spread hand to the center of Roman’s back, speaking to him before Roman went and flipped him right off his form.

“Relax. You trust me, right?”

Roman’s eyes looked back at Seth again, who was sitting straight with his head tilted casually to look right down to those dark eyes in return.

Fleeting doubts fly through Roman’s mind, only a moment considering a less favorable answer before snapping back to now – Seth wasn’t the same as he was this time last year – and nodded once before the bedroom door opened as well.

“Took you damn long enough.”

“Looks like you’re gettin’ along just fine without me,”

The rugged voice was unmistakable, and Roman instantaneously felt the rush of excitement pulse through him, though his snarky little question might’ve felt otherwise.

“I thought you said ‘just us,’ on the plane?” But he wasn’t really complaining.

Seth shrugged, unstraddling Roman (albeit a bit reluctantly) to allow him to roll onto his back just in time to be caged in by Dean’s arms.

The lunatic’s nose nearly touched Roman’s, and the pair certainly looked like two men who hadn’t gotten any quality time together in a few months, eyes sparkling and all that.

“Aw, that supposed to mean you aren’t happy to see me, Ro?”

“Just… surprised is all.” And Roman had that warm, wide smile stretching his cheeks, and only then Seth noticed Roman was actually looking at him.

It’s like Roman always knew how to perfectly distribute those affectionate looks- just so everyone in this mess always felt included.

“Enough of the sappy looks, I’m here, and I’d like to catch up with you hormonal teenagers,” Dean sent both Seth and Roman’s premature erections teasing glances, wriggling out of his leather jacket, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants but not taking them off just yet.

Dean sat back on his calves, feet hanging off the edge of the bed. Roman propped himself up on his elbows to look between the other two.

They came to a brief stand-still, before Roman went and asked.

“So, how are we doing this?”

In polyamorous relationships, intimate times required communication – and in a relationship where none of them were really solidified in their positions, it really needed communication.

The thought was simple to Roman, but Dean was giving him a weird look while Seth quietly placed his hand on one of Roman’s thighs.

“Seth didn’t tell you?” Dean’s crooked smile melted into something more suggestive, dimples accentuated as he flashed Roman his white teeth.

“We planned this to help you loosen up. You been stressin’ and overthinking yourself so…”

Roman opened his smirking mouth to retort, brows furrowed in offense, only Dean covered his lips with a searing kiss– not wasting time with soft pecks and getting right down to tongue and teeth to let himself into Roman’s wet cavern.

And Roman hadn’t kissed Dean in long enough, he let it happen, his rigid body wanting to relax into the rough, but familiar make out session.

Dean parted, keeping himself only centimeters away and letting them stay in an almost suffocating shared space, breaths clashing each other’s.

“We’re gonna dominate you tonight. All you gotta do is relax, and stop thinking, because we’re gonna think for you, Big Dog.” Dean purred, hands tightening on the wrists Roman hadn’t fully realized were pinned down.

It was like his body knew something he didn’t – and everything the two had done so far was exactly what he needed.

“And we’re only gonna make you do things you’ll like, trust me.” Seth piped in, partially satisfied by the summary Dean had provided of the plans they’d texted about. Seth’s hand squeezed around Roman’s thigh muscles, always having loved how thick his body was.

“No spewing non-sense scripts, no shitty crowds, just you and us.” His hand only slides higher with every syllable, now, and he watches intently as Roman’s unsure but desire-clouded eyes stared up at the ceiling while Dean freely peppered Roman’s collar bones with more kisses.

“Just like before, we wanna hear the real you.” Seth whispered, hand snaking around Roman’s now throbbing erection.

Typically, Dean wouldn’t want to be spoken for, but he didn’t exactly have any objections here. He licked wet frames around Roman’s perked nipples, giving the right one a kitten lick before blowing cold air on it, just at the same time as he witnessed Seth give the big man a few good pumps.

“F-Fuck…” Roman’s Adams apple bobbed beautifully as he trembled, and Dean’s eyes darted to it, fingers giving the other nipple a hard pinch.

Roman could already feel coherency slipping away, eyes shutting, and they’d only just gotten started; it made him briefly consider just how much he wanted this because… holy hell, it sounded so good. Letting both his boys take over his body and let any thing else slip away.

Seth continued to stroke him under his briefs, the tension of having his hand shoved in them making the fabric strain and press up against the back of Roman’s thighs, cradling his bottom. He climbed between the space of Roman’s legs now, nudging the knees further open to have Roman in an even more vulnerable position.

Dean was loving the view of Roman’s tiny facial changes that sprung from each movement between the three of them; deciding now was the time to step it up, Dean leisurely dragged his short nails down the tattooed side of Roman’s chest, relishing the light red streaks that were left behind, even as they were slightly hidden by the dark ink there.

“This is why you keep the vest, right, Ro..?” Dean chuckled darkly, pressing his chin down in the dip of Roman’s pecks, playfully rubbing his short beard against it—it was new, but he’d personally always appreciated the extra stimulation a little beard burn had always provided in the past, whether it was Roman or Seth.

“..S..hut up,” Roman tried to snap back, but it came out breathy, since Seth had just shifted him so the head of his cock was sticking out of the waist band of his boxers, still getting stroked at a steady pace that was gradually becoming maddening.

Dean grinned, lewdly backing up to lick from the top of Roman’s abs to his chest again, warm tongue swirling both nubs before he nipped at them gently, giving a small tug here and there just to see Roman twitch; he’d kiss and lick and blow on them, stubble of his beard grazing the tender skin; suck tiny spots around his tattoo, then undo any doting actions with light rakes of his nails.

Between all the dull pain and the pleasure, Roman was panting out quiet obscenities of ‘fuck’, ‘shit’, or an alternation of their names, and his back was arching off the plush bed.

But it wasn’t long before it wasn’t quite enough, and Roman felt like he was being edged on purpose.

“Seth – just take ‘em off already,” He hisses, but a chill runs up his spine as Seth gives his manhood a squeeze at the base, and Dean’s fingers dance along his throat, loosely curling around. They’d done choking before, and if it ever got out of hand they knew all they need do is tap. It hadn’t been necessary yet.

“You didn’t say please, baby,” Dean murmurs against Roman’s cheek, keeping his fingers loose.

Roman wets his lips, which are already swollen from his own biting on them. Swallowing down a bit of pride in the way he’s sure he’s about to sound, as opposed to his typical macho act, his eyes open to flicker at Dean and then down to Seth – who chooses now as the perfect moment to flit the tip of his tongue against the head of Roman’s cock.

“…Please… gh .. please take em off already.“

"That’s a good boy,” Dean teased, giving Roman’s heated cheeks a light peck, but finally giving the throat under his hand a squeeze in response to the way Roman tried turned his head away.

Though it might’ve looked bad, Roman struggled out a moan, the noise sounding against his will — but absolutely of his own accord. He didn’t know what it was about that sensation of having air sucked into your lungs - not impossible but strained - the exhilarating danger mixing with the blood-racing pleasure as Seth tongued the slit of his erection.

All this while Dean continued spilling words, the fingers around Roman’s neck fluctuating between firm hugs and light pressure whenever he could feel the larger male’s chest heave in warning of another moan.

“…You’d get a kick out my old collar from CZW. I knew I kept it for something.”

Roman’s eyes fluttered shut, the thought of Dean tugging on the chain attached to that leather collar muttering pet-like obscenities making him shudder again.

Seth’s mouth finally closed around him, eagerly taking down a good half of his girthy length but only giving it light, almost useless sucks. Not that Roman didn’t feel every move of that tongue, or vibrations of the groans coming up from Seth’s throat — but it wasn’t /enough/.

Roman bucked up his hips; Seth must’ve been expecting it, because he moved his head up slightly, before delving back down again and taking in more this time, sucking harsher now, saliva collecting at the corners of his mouth.

Roman relished in being rewarded — but it was short lived when Dean slithered on top of him, straddling his waist all while keeping a hand on his throat.

Dean’s hips were enough to hold his own down, that slender waist holding surprising strength.

“Woah, woah, pup. Nobody said you could do that.”

The nickname seemed to flow flawlessly off Dean’s tongue, his gruff voice dragging the cute word through the mud. He loosened his grip completely around Roman’s neck, almost forgetting the relevance of air with how blissed out the man underneath him looked. Gasping and taking a hearty breath, Roman licked his lips and refocused his dark eyes on the blue ones above him; Dean had released his neck but deftly continued petting over Roman’s Adam’s apple with his thumb.

“Who owns you..?”

Seth’s throat pressed against the tip of Roman’s member just as Dean asked, so instead of replying Roman just bit his lower lip and grunted— eyes closing again.

“Who owns you?” Dean repeated, moving one hand to absently trace the shoulder of Roman’s tattoo and the other to bed space beside his head.

“Hh— th– the business,” Roman muttered, voice cracking off like a dying flame as it tried to still force back the loud noises he wanted to make as Seth bobbed on him, throat constricting around it every few moments. It was obvious Roman hadn’t even realized how wrong the words that came out of his mouth were— of course, Dean did.

… To be continued soon babes c:

[ill-skillsgard]

subby bratty Roman who’s desperate for some attention please mom

Nobody could shake your character the way he could when he looked up at you, knees on the carpet, eyes watering as if on cue, bottom lip wobbling so scrumptiously you wanted to bend over and bite it.

At first, you thought it was peculiar when he got like this. But the longer time went on, the more you realized that big hot-shot Roman was a very believable mask that he put on every morning before shooting off to Godfrey Industries to make use of himself. But when Roman got home, that bold glower and confident gait went a bit demure.

He just wanted to be loved and have his body worshipped like so many other secretive people that told themselves that they weren’t allowed to show weakness. You wondered what instilled this duality in him. It could have been his upbringing and how Roman had been allowed to act like an adult, talk like one and drink like one. It could have been his mother. Hell, it could have been his father for all you knew. 

“Get up on the bed, rabbit.”

And so he hopped. 

You knew what he wanted and he didn’t have the patience to go through the motions. He didn’t want to beg or jump through hoops to get it tonight. And truth be told, you were a little too eager to oblige him. So the formalities were tossed out as Roman undid his belt and stripped off his pants and underwear. 

“Kiss me,” you thought you heard him whisper when you climbed onto the bed and settled into his outstretched arms.

Now, he should have earned a slap for the demand. But you couldn’t say no when the look of his full lips sent out an earnest invitation. He reeled you in and almost as soon as you gave him what he wanted he began to whimper for more. He wanted your hand on his cock, no, his balls, even farther down until he opened his legs and you got the message.

“Fuck me,” came his next command, hardly audible.

“You want to get fucked, rabbit? You been craving it?”

Roman nodded with his eyes closed. There was a certain poignancy in this kind of humiliation. You didn’t have to do much. Simply the act of him asking to be fucked was a satisfying form of discomfiture. But you started to wonder if Roman even cared anymore, if asking was a chore still or if he simply didn’t care enough to dance around the subject.

“Answer. Use words,” you whispered against his wet lips.

“Yes, I want to be fucked.”

“And?”

“Please, mommy.”

You rolled him onto his tummy and trailed kisses down that beautiful arcing spine, appreciating the softness of his pale back until you reached his tailbone. Roman’s backside was simply perfect for squeezing. Two plenteous handfuls of pure white rich boy ass. Your dominant bone tingled as you kissed him just a little East of his cleft.

“How does rabbit want it? Slow and soft? Big and hard?”

He twisted his face to sideglance you. How could he put into words that he wanted all of the above? He wanted to be eaten slow, kissed softly, fondled thoroughly, fingered gently and once that hot faucet had been turned on, he wanted it hard. But he couldn’t ask for all that so he settled for wiggling his hips and earning himself a hearty spank.

“You stay right there, just like that, okay beautiful?”

“Mm-hmm,” he mumbled. “Yes, momma.”

You tingled when he called you that and had to leave a hot, wet kiss where you had smacked him.

“My boy can’t wait for the strap, huh? Gonna open you up good, baby boy.”

Roman waited for the cold lube and winced when it was applied. You stood on your knees behind him and slipped one trimmed finger in slow enough to be a warning but firm enough to tell him that he had maybe ten seconds before the real fun started. His face was already stuffed into a pillow and the moans that managed to escape the muffle of the down sounded melodious and warm.

“Get your face out of there, rabbit. I want to hear those moans while you get fucked.”

“Yes, ma’am.”